Jane Field eBook

“That’s the principal thing,” said
Mrs. Green, in a solemn trembling voice.

Amanda said nothing. She thought of her will;
a vision of the nicely ordered rooms she had left
seemed to show out before her in the flare of the
lightning; in spite of her terror it was a comfort
to her.

“We’d ought to be thankful in a time like
this that we ain’t any of us got any great wickedness
on our consciences,” said Mrs. Babcock.
“It must be terrible for them that have, thinkin’
they may die any minute when the next flash comes.
I don’t envy ’em.”

“It must be terrible,” assented Mrs. Green,
like an amen.

“It’s bad enough with the sins we’ve
got on all our minds, the best of us,” continued
Mrs. Babcock. “Think how them that’s
broken God’s commandments an’ committed
murders an’ robberies must feel. I shouldn’t
think they could stan’ it, unless they burst
right out an’ confessed to everybody—­should
you, Mis’ Field?”

“I guess so,” said Mrs. Field, in a hard
voice.

Mrs. Babcock said no more; somehow she and the others
felt repelled. They all sat in silence except
for awed ejaculations when now and then came a louder
crash of thunder. All at once, after a sharp
flash, there was a wild clamor in the street; a bell
clanged out.

“It’s struck! it’s struck!”
shrieked Mrs. Babcock.

“Oh, it ain’t this house, is it?”
Amanda wailed.

They all rushed to the windows and flung open the
blinds; a red glare filled the room; a large barn
nearly opposite was on fire. They clutched each
other, and watched the red gush of flame. The
barn burned as if lighted at every corner.

“Are there any cows or horses in it?”
panted Mrs. Babcock. “Oh, ain’t it
dreadful? Are there any, Mis’ Field?”

“I dunno,” said Mrs. Field.

She stood like a grim statue, the red light of the
fire in her face. Lois was sobbing. Mrs.
Green had put an arm around her.

“Don’t, Lois, don’t,” she
kept saying, in a solemn, agitated voice. “The
Lord will overrule it all; it is He speakin’
in it.”

The women watched while the street filled with people,
and the barn burned down. It did not take long.
The storm began to lull rapidly. The thunder
came at long intervals, and the hail turned into a
gentle rain. Finally Mrs. Field went out into
the kitchen to prepare supper, and Lois followed her.

“I never see anything like the way she acts,”
said Mrs. Babcock cautiously.

“She always was kind of quiet,” rejoined
Mrs. Green.

“Quiet! She acts as if she’d had
thunder an’ lightnin’ an’ hail an’
barns burnt down every day since she’s been here.
I never see anybody act so queer.”

“I ’most wish I’d stayed to home,”
said Amanda.

“Well, I wouldn’t be backin’ out
the minute I’d got here, if I was you,”
returned Mrs. Babcock sharply. “It’s
comin’ cooler, that’s one thing, an’
you won’t need that white sacque. I should
think you’d feel kinder glad of it, for them
shoulder seams did look pretty long to what they wear
’em. An’ I dare say folks here are
pretty dressy. I declare I shall be kinder glad
when supper’s ready. I feel real faint
to my stomach, as if I’d like somethin’
hearty. I should have gone into one of them places
in Boston if things hadn’t been so awful dear.”